


honey, honey

by louistomlinsons



Series: sorority au [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Face-Sitting, Fluff, Fraternities & Sororities, Girl Direction, No Plot, Useless Lesbians, Vaginal Fingering, and some smut, just fluff, lots of talking about marriage, my favorite tag, ok i'll stop, wait i forgot - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 08:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18279305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louistomlinsons/pseuds/louistomlinsons
Summary: another sorority au that no one asked for - featuring squirt guns, copious talks of marriage, and more useless lesbians.





	honey, honey

**Author's Note:**

> to [nikki](http://hazzaskilt.tumblr.com/) for being the reason i created this au in the first place  
> i don't think you need to have read the first part to understand this, it's just set in the same timeline/universe!

Harry’s entire body is  _ sweating _ . There’s not a place on her body that isn’t slick with sweat, droplets dripping down her back. Her clothes are so soaked she could probably wring them out into a puddle at her feet. 

Although, she’s not sure how much of it’s sweat and how much of it is water from the squirt gun attack Louis had launched on her.

“ _ Agh! _ ” she screams as Louis hits her again, this time right between the eyes. If she weren’t awake before, the cold water definitely wakes her up now. The stream stops and the water slides down her face, into her mouth and down the front of her shirt. She sputters for half a second, still afraid to open her eyes. 

Louis only cackles, gone by the time Harry has wiped the water away and opened her eyes. She clutches her own squirt gun to her chest, still full. She hasn’t managed to hit anyone yet. She’s not trying very hard though; even the idea of a toy water gun makes her uneasy. She’s content to just take it as Louis attacks her. 

They’re having a squirt gun war, all the different sororities battling it out to promote “bonding.” Harry just thinks they’re trying to get everyone’s frustration out before recruitment starts back up. They all tend to get a little catty when recruiting new members. 

Harry’s about to tap out when she feels a warm hand slip up the back of her shirt. It slides easily, finding no grip on her soaking skin. She recognizes the hand as her girlfriend’s, fitting perfectly against the small of her back. 

Louis leans forward and places a kiss against the damp skin at Harry’s neck. Blowing over it and sending goosebumps down Harry’s body, she whispers, “Land one shot on me and I’ll finally do that thing you’ve been wanting to do tonight.”

Before she can even spin around, Louis is gone, her cackling laughing all that’s left. 

Harry can see various sorority girls splattered across the field. There are some hiding behind trees, but most of them are out in the open. It’s supposed to be a fun experience - and it  _ is _ \- so everyone’s just taking it as an excuse to pelt their friends with water and cool down under the hot sun. Unfortunately (or fortunately, whichever) for Harry, her girlfriend is a  _ maniac _ and everything is a competition. 

The crowds are starting to disperse, people giving up and going home to shower. They’ve been out here for at least two hours, so Harry doesn’t blame them. She wants to go home, too. She’s renewed, however, by the mission given to her by Louis. She just needs to land one shot on Louis, and they can leave. They can go home and do  _ anything _ .

She jogs across the field to where her friends are gathered, having given up and laid down on the soft grass. They’re laying all over each other in a circle, despite the heat of the day. 

“Have you guys seen Louis?” she asks, hovering over them. “I need to hit her.”

“I know you guys fight sometimes, but that’s no need to get physical,” Niall says, not even bothering to open her eyes. She’s got her head pillowed in Liam’s lap, and if she hadn’t just spoken, Harry wouldn’t even think she was awake. 

“You know what I mean, fucker,” Harry says back, but there’s no heat behind it. “I’ve got to hit her with my  _ water gun _ . Is that better?”

“Sure.” Niall sounds like she isn’t too bothered either way, nuzzling up into Liam’s hand as she strokes her hair. “I haven’t seen her.”

“Well, I wouldn’t think so,” Liam says. “You haven’t opened your eyes in thirty minutes.”

“You guys are by far the most useless individuals I’ve ever met in my life.” Harry rolls her eyes and plops down next to where Zayn’s seated. She half lands on top of her, laughing softly as Zayn shoots her a dirty look from the corner of her eye. “Oh well. I’ll wait for her to tire herself out.”

“It’s like you don’t know me at all,” comes Louis’ voice as she sets herself on the ground next to Harry. There’s not a drop of water anywhere on her body. Her skin’s not even damp from sweat. Unfair. “I’ll never tire myself out. I could go all day.”

“We know,” Zayn groans. “Do you ever chill out?”

“No.”

Harry seizes the opportunity. Louis is momentarily distracted by Zayn, so she picks up her water gun and shoots Louis right in the chest. Her grey shirt darkens, clinging to her body.

An indignant squawk comes from Louis’ mouth, jaw falling as she stares at the wet spot on her shirt. “You got me!”

“Yeah, now let’s go home,” Harry says, pushing herself from the ground and offering Louis a hand up. Louis takes it reluctantly, allowing herself to be pulled. She’s pouting adorably, lower lip poking out as they say their goodbyes to their friends. Everyone else says they’re too comfortable to move, working on their tans and napping before they never see the sun again, and all that.

Harry leads Louis across the grass, spots of it squelching beneath their feet. There are some patches so dry from the sun that they crunch, and others have been soaked by the day’s activities that mud is puddled there. She enjoys leaping from the dry spots to the wet spots as Louis follows behind and laughs at her.

“I’m dating a child,” Louis giggles, reaching out and grabbing at Harry’s hand. She entangles their fingers together and falls into step with her. “I need a shower.”

“Hmm, we can shower at the house since it’s closer,” Harry says, coming to the crosswalk. She presses the button, waiting patiently for the light to change. 

Louis, however, does not care that the walk light is not lit up, and instead grips tightly to Harry’s hand and yanks them across the street. She cackles like a madman the entire time, head thrown back. Harry’s not even sure she’s watching the road as she darts between cars. Horns are blaring, but Louis looks so blissful, eyes half closed, hair blowing behind her as she jogs, and mouth half hanging open in a giddy smile. It’s like a movie scene, Harry thinks, both of them jogging hand in hand in slow motion and some love song playing in the background.

They make it to the other side without being hit. Louis is still laughing breathlessly and all Harry can do is watch her in amazement, both at her stupidity and at how gorgeous she looks when she’s laughing. 

“You fucking idiot,” Harry finally says. There’s no heat behind it and she’s almost smiling and Louis only laughs louder. “Absolutely a fucking idiot.”

It only takes them a few more minutes to make it to Harry’s apartment, hands interlocked and swinging between them. Now that they’ve crossed the street, Louis doesn’t appear to be in too much of a rush and Harry doesn’t mind a bit of meandering if it means more uninterrupted time with Louis.

Approaching the sorority house, she pulls her keys from the pocket with her free hand and goes to unlock the door. Louis only snorts a little when she sees the lanyard she’s put them on (it’s a black lanyard with green aliens all over it. It’s  _ cute _ ). The door swings open, air conditioning fanning over them and providing instant relief from the unforgiving August heat.

“Oh thank god,” Louis moans, all but falling through the doorway. “Lead me to the shower, Mrs. President.”

Harry can’t even help the giggle that tumbles past her lips. There’s a few sorority girls seated in the living room, studying and napping, and they all shoot them dirty looks. At this point, Harry’s sure they regret electing her president, forcing her to move into the house. Living in the house also means that Louis is over almost all the time, being loud and disruptive. Harry tries to rein her in, but she can only do so much. 

“It’s not fair,” one of the girls pipes up. She’s got some notebooks scattered around her as she’s sprawled out on the floor, hair pulled into a messy bun and looking rightfully annoyed. “We can’t bring boys upstairs, but you guys skirt the rules because you’re lesbians.”

Harry does think that’s kind of an outdated and unfair rule. Unfortunately, she has no say in the house rules. Her only job (well, not her  _ only _ job) is to enforce the rules given to them. Maybe she should set a good example and not have Louis come upstairs, or stay the night every other night, but she has no self control. She just can’t say no to Louis.

“It’s gay rights, baby,” Louis says before Harry gets a chance to. Her eyes dart to Louis quickly, but Louis isn’t even looking at her as she bounds up the stairs, leaving Harry to deal with disgruntled sorority girls.

“Uh, I’m sorry,” she says, more of a mumble than anything. “I’ll, uh. Bye.”

She takes the stairs two at a time, trying to reach her room before Louis can do anything destructive to it. Who knows what she’d get up to if let alone for more than thirty seconds? Nothing good.

“Louis!” she hisses as she comes into her room. The only good thing about being president (well, not the  _ only _ good thing) is that she at least gets her own room. When she’d been a freshman and had lived in the house, she’d had to share with two other girls. Now there’s just one twin sized bed in the room, and only her pictures hanging on the wall. There’s no one else to complain about her posters and plants (well, no one except Louis). 

“What?” Louis asks innocently, already shedding out of her clothes. She’s pulled her shirt over her head, using the fabric to wipe away sweat from her forehead. She’s wearing a bright orange sports bra, contrasting with what’s left of her summer tan. “What did I do this time?”

“Don’t aggravate my sisters,” Harry tells her. “It’s not very nice. They’ll impeach me.”

“They should do that anyway,” Louis says, tucking her thumbs into the waistband of her black running shorts and sliding them down her legs. Harry would respond, but now she’s distracted by Louis’ thighs. She’s been running more and now they’re toned and perfect and belong wrapped around Harry’s head at all times. “I’d say you’re a terrible president.”

“Hmm?” Harry says, half-distracted as she watches Louis’ thigh muscles ripple. “What are we talking about again?”

“You’re a useless lesbian, you know that?”

Harry brings her gaze from Louis’ thighs to meet her eyes. “You tell me at least once a day - how could I forget?”

“Well, I just want to make sure you’re always aware of how useless you are,” Louis says. Harry wants to respond, wants to keep up this banter that they do so well, but Louis is pulling her sports bra over her head and Harry forgets how to breathe. 

She  _ loves _ Louis’ body. She can’t help it. She’s toned and tan and small and curvy and  _ perfect _ .

“Stop staring at me, you’ve got creepy frog eyes,” Louis says, wrinkling her nose. Harry wants to reach across the room and boop it with the tip of her finger. She suspects that wouldn’t go over well, though, so she keeps her hands to herself. 

“I do not have creepy frog eyes,” she protests. “Take it back.”

“No way,” Louis says. She pokes her tongue out and crosses her arms over her chest, effectively covering herself up. “You’ve got the creepiest frog eyes.” She walks over to Harry’s dresser, opening the top drawer where she keeps all her t-shirts. She digs through, messing up all the perfectly folded shirts, until she gets to the bottom and pulls out a plain white one.

“There was one just like that sitting right on top. There was literally no need for you to mess everything up like that.” Harry rolls her eyes and strips herself of her own clothes, tripping over her shorts as she steps out of them. Louis snorts from across the room and pulls Harry’s t-shirt over her head. It rests perfectly at the tops of her thighs. It definitely looks better on Louis than it does on Harry. 

Harry doesn’t even bother with putting clothes back onto her body. They’re supposed to be showering, anyway, so she isn’t sure why Louis’ going out of her way to put clothes on. 

“Yeah, but you look cute when you’re all pissed off,” Louis says, taking a few running steps and catapulting herself on Harry’s bed. The frame shakes for a few moments as Louis settles on top of the comforter. 

“You can’t keep doing things to irritate me on the premise of me being cute when I’m upset,” Harry points out. Her point doesn’t hit very hard, though, because she’s climbing onto the bed with Louis, snuggling close despite how sticky with sweat their skin still is.

“Yes, I can.”

Harry doesn’t even bother arguing with her. She just throws one leg over Louis’ hip and pulls her in tighter. Louis pretends to be all big and bad, but when they’re cuddling in bed, she all but melts into Harry’s hands. It’s one of the cutest things about her, in Harry’s expert opinion.

She can feel Louis’ hand sliding up the bare skin of her waist. Her fingertips leave goosebumps in their wake, chills running up Harry’s spine. 

“Harry?” comes Louis’ hesitant voice. “Can we do that thing I promised? What you’ve been wanting to do like  _ forever _ ?”

Harry leans forward and kisses her on the nose, wet and loud and theatrical. “I’m starting to think you want to do this, too.”

“Shut up,” Louis grumbles. 

Harry saves her the embarrassment of having to ask again, using her leg wrapped around Louis to grip her tight and roll them over, until Louis is seated on top of her hips. Louis settles her thighs on either side of Harry’s hips, squeezing tightly as she leans in.

Kissing Louis is better every time. 

Each time their lips meet, Harry forgets how to breathe. Truly, forgets how to breathe. Louis has had to pull away and ask if she’s okay more than a handful of times. 

This time is no different. Her breath catches in her throat, lips parted to meet Louis’ own. They fit together familiarly and easily. It’s not long before Louis is pressing her tongue against her lips, easily opening them up and slipping inside. It turns hot quickly, spurred on by the fact that it’s been too long since they’ve been alone. Harry could turn on her fan, but that would require moving Louis from on top of her and she’d like to avoid that if all possible. She wants Louis on top of her for the rest of her life.

Louis’ already breathlessly whining into her mouth, so easy for it. She’s all attitude and dominant personality until Harry gets her hands on her and then she’s basically putty, willing to do whatever Harry wants,  _ needing _ to do whatever Harry wants.

Their kissing turns sloppy, more of an open-mouthed pant as their tongues slip against each other than an actual kiss at this point. Louis is circling her hips, toes tucked under Harry’s calves and thighs squeezing tightly around her hips. Harry can feel the warm heat from her crotch against the bare skin of her stomach, Louis’ underwear all that separates them.

“Need more,” Louis says breathlessly, barely above a whisper. She sits up, pulling away from Harry’s lips, and runs a hand through her own hair. Harry watches in rapt attention as she gives it a light tug, her hips stuttering in their movement. “Never enough with you, always need so much more.”

And it should be scary, the way they so quickly fell into this, how much they need each other. But Harry is anything but scared. She’s so in  _ love _ . In love with every little bit of Louis, all the cute things and annoying things and definitely the hot things - like the way she keeps tugging at her own hair with one hand and uses the other to slip up her borrowed shirt and twist her nipples. Harry loves it all. 

“Ssh, baby, I’ve got you,” Harry says soothingly, reaching up and slipping her hands up the t-shirt Louis is wearing. “Anything you need, I’ve got you.” She settles her hands on Louis’ waist, running her thumb over the soft skin there. 

“Can I sit on your face?” Louis asks. Harry digs her thumbs deeper into the skin on Louis’ waist, holding tightly. “Please? You’ve been asking and I want to, so badly.”

“Yes, of course baby,” Harry says, sliding her hands around and cupping Louis’ ass. She kneads at the skin, slipping her fingertips underneath the soft panties she’s wearing. She uses her grip on Louis’ ass to pull her forward, up her body and towards her chest.

Louis goes easily, already so pliant. 

“Gonna be good for me, baby?” Harry asks. It’s a rhetorical question and they both know it. Louis is  _ always _ so good for her. 

“Always.” 

Harry grips her hips tighter and pulls her closer, hoping she’ll get the message. Louis understands, of course she does, lifting herself onto her knees and shuffling forward until she’s hovering over Harry’s face. 

“Pinch my thigh if it’s too much?”

All Harry can do is nod, licking at her lower lip. Louis must decide this is good enough because she hooks a finger in her panties and pulls them to the side. Without any second guessing, she sets herself down on Harry’s mouth, hips twitching when her tongue makes contact.

Harry licks at her without any hesitation. She’s been wanting to do this  _ forever _ , since they first started dating definitely. She’s not going to waste the opportunity now that it’s presented itself to her.

She licks up and down Louis’ slit, bringing her hands up and using two of her fingers to keep her spread open. She dips one finger inside of Louis, teasingly, sharp contrast to the way she can’t hold back with her tongue. 

The sounds Louis is making us muffled by her thighs around Harry’s ears, but the fact that her slick is all down Harry’s jaw and across her cheeks more than makes up for it. She’s pressing into Harry’s mouth like she can’t do anything else, thighs closing in around her head. 

Almost all it takes is Harry licking a flat stripe along her clit, taking it into her mouth and sucking gently, and hooking the finger pressed inside her for Louis to come undone. Her orgasm wracks her body in waves, bigger shocks that progress into smaller ones until she’s whining from the sensitivity. 

If it were up to Harry, she’d grip Louis’ thighs and never let her stand up, but. Louis slides off Harry’s face and all but collapses in bed next to her, cheeks red and damp with sweat. The only time she seems anything but put together is when Harry is pulling her apart with her fingers and tongue. It’s nice to know that  _ she’s _ the only one who can make Louis fall apart. 

“Give me two seconds and I can return the favor, I swear,” she says breathlessly, but her sentence trails off towards the end and her eyes are closing. Harry just brings a blanket up over their bodies and wraps her arm around Louis. She allows herself to be lulled to sleep by Louis’ snores. 

 

“I’d argue that you and Louis are the most disgusting couple I’ve ever met,” Niall says one morning, completely unprompted as they’re standing in line to order coffee. It’s not even eight in the morning and they hadn’t previously been talking about anything, so Harry’s unsure why she’s bringing this up now. 

“Okay?” Harry reaches the register, greeting the worker behind the counter. It’s some girl she vaguely recognizes from her psychology class freshman year, looking too tired and like she’ll punch the next person to order a frappuccino. She decides to order a plain iced coffee. 

Niall orders the same, joining Harry to the side to wait for their drinks. Not so out of the blue this time, Niall says again, “You guys are just grossly in love.”

“I’m actually offended here, Ni,” Harry says but she’s not really. She doesn’t care what anyone else thinks about her relationship with Louis, and Niall doesn’t  _ actually  _ think they’re disgusting. At least not in a homophobic way, or anything. “Why do we disgust you so much?”

“You’re just a gross ass married couple,” Niall explains. “It’s like watching your parents kiss. Just mad gross. And to know you guys have sex? The  _ worst _ .” The girl calls out their names for their drinks, handing them over and plastering one of the fakest smiles Harry’s ever seen in her life. 

“We’re not a married couple  _ yet _ .” 

The distinction is important to her, actually. It’s something her and Louis have talked about, now that they’re both seniors and the end of their undergrad is approaching quickly. They had sat down one afternoon and told each other what the future looked like for themselves as individuals, and what they wanted out of the relationship. When it was obvious that they were willing to stay together even if they ended up on separate continents, they’d talked about marriage. Not super seriously, but they  _ had _ .

They’d both agreed that this was probably it for them, as in love as they would ever be. Harry always feels weird explaining it to other people, but the people closest to her - the ones that matter - get it. They understand the dynamic that is  _ HarryandLouis _ . 

“Are you planning on proposing?” Niall asks, no sort of judgement in her voice. “What’s the plan for you guys?”

“Nothing definite,” Harry says with a shrug. They exit out of the coffee shop, sipping at their coffees as they leisurely stroll to the only class they’ve ever shared together all four years. “We both agree that this is serious. We also both understand that we’re going to need to go back to school to continue our degrees, we’re young, and this is a new relationship, so marriage isn’t like something we’ve ever super seriously talked about.”

“If she asked, would you say yes?” Niall’s not one to beat around the bush, ever, and today is no exception.

Harry takes another sip of her coffee, cherishing how cool the liquid is in contrast to the heat of the day. “Probably. At least we’d be engaged. But we probably wouldn’t be able to get married for a few years, at least. She’s going to  _ law school _ , Niall. She’s got a few more important things on her plate.”

“I actually really admire how you guys have talked about this stuff,” Niall says as they approach the lecture building. It’s still ten minutes until the class starts, the campus still quiet, not having quite woken up yet. “I know to outsiders you guys can seem kind of immature, but I can tell it’s the opposite.”

Harry preens under the compliment. “Thanks, Ni. That means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it,” Niall says. She pauses for a moment, finishing off the last of her coffee before throwing it into the trash can next to them. “Seriously.  _ Do not mention it _ .”

 

“Tell me your bid day theme or I’ll never have sex with you again.”

Harry peeks over the top of her book, placing her index finger on the words to hold her place. She’s laying on the couch, feet planted into the cushions and using her knees as a table to rest her book on while she reads. Louis’ laying on the other side, curled into a ball. Harry had thought she was asleep until she had just spoken, words slurred together like she  _ might _ have been sleeping.

“That wouldn’t be just punishment for me, though,” Harry says. “You’d suffer too.”

“I guess you’ve got me there,” Louis says with a hum.

She’s been trying since the spring to figure out what Delta Xi’s bid day theme is. Harry isn’t sure what she’d do with the information, so she’s keeping it a secret still, the only real secret they have between them. She even knows that Beta’s theme this year is Grease because Louis had helped pick it and she was so excited, running straight home to Harry and gushing all about it.

It’s driving Louis absolutely bonkers that she has no idea what Delta Xi’s doing this year. 

Last year, she found out only because she used it to ask Harry on a date. Liam had been willing to help because it had been for a good cause, but this year nobody will let it slip. It’s not even necessarily supposed to be a secret, except from the new members, but it’s fun to keep Louis out of the loop, to watch her become more and more agitated. 

“Why won’t you tell me?” Louis asks, turning her head and making eye contact with Harry. She almost looks innocent, laying like that, head cradled on her folded arms resting on the arm of the couch. Her eyes are droopy with sleep, barely even open, and her legs are curled up under her. As per usual, Harry wants to cuddle up against her and never move. Unfortunately, society frowns upon that and they’ve both got duties to attend to.

“Because you’re cute when you’re annoyed,” Harry says. She dog ears the page in her book, knowing that she’s probably not going to get any more reading done for the night. They’ve been like this for at least two hours, enjoying each other’s presence on the sorority’s couch. Harry had to run a meeting earlier in the evening, but Louis had shown up to surprise her, loaded with Chinese food and the promise of a foot rub. They’d devoured the food, but Louis had never given her the foot rub.

Nights like these are nice, hints of what could be further down the line. She allows herself to indulge in daydreams, imagining what it will be like when they finally move in together and can end every night like this. When they can end every night with dinner and relax on their couch, whether it be finishing up the day’s work, watching television, reading, or simply enjoying the silence while cuddled together.

She knows that’s down the line for them, realistically, once they’ve got their careers settled and everything’s a little more sure. As it stands, Louis is worried she won’t get in to law school, won’t make it once she’s there, and Harry has no idea what she wants to do with her psychology degree once she’s graduated. They’ve got less than nine months to figure it out, and anxiety has settled in both of their stomachs.

Sometimes, when Louis has refreshed her inbox one too many times, waiting for an admissions email, Harry will take her to a hidden coffee shop or bookstore and they’ll get lost, forget for a few hours that they have actual responsibilities.

Sometimes, when Harry is panicking because she doesn’t know what to do once she’s handed her diploma, unsure of everything in her life except for Louis, they’ll go for a long drive until they’re out of the city. They roll the windows of the car down, wind blowing through their hair as they sing loud pop songs and listen quietly to folk ballads. 

It’s those moments that keep Harry going, keep her from going up a wall and losing her mind. To see and feel that Louis understands her, gets her, and that they’ll be okay. That there’s nothing more steady in her life than this relationship, and that at the end of the day, when nothing feels like it’s going right, this  _ is _ . 

“I love you,” Louis says, interrupting Harry’s thoughts. 

“I love you, too,” Harry answers, reaching out and kicking at Louis’ shins with her toes. “Time for bed?”

Louis nods, untucking herself and standing from the couch. Harry takes a moment to admire her, watching as she stretches her arms over her head, exposing a small strip of skin by her waistband when her shirt rides up. She admires the soft way Louis rubs the sleep away from her eyes, turning to Harry with drowsy eyes and extending a hand, waiting patiently for Harry to join her.

They climb the steps hand in hand, similar to numerous nights before and foretelling of many nights to come. Louis pushes open Harry’s door, pulling her through and locking it behind them. She pulls Harry in for a sweet kiss, their lips fitting together naturally. 

Harry can’t help the way she curls her fingers in the soft fabric of Louis’ oversized sweater, pulling her closer by the hips and deepening the kiss. It’s so easy when Louis is like this - soft and willing and clingy. 

Louis fists her hands in the the collar of Harry’s shirt, as if she needs to be closer. Harry slides her arms around her, flattening her palms against the small of her back. She feels the muscles there, rippling as Louis pushes closer against her.

Using her grip on Louis’ hips, Harry guides them back until they’re collapsing on the bed, a tangle of limbs and lips still connected. She hovers over Louis, one thigh fitted right between both of hers, revelling in the way their skin slides together. Louis’ nibbling on her lower lip, pulling her until they’re flush against one another.

“Babe,” Harry says breathlessly, pulling away. She doesn’t have anything else to say, just wants to look at the pink flush of Louis’ cheeks and her hair splayed out behind her head like a halo. 

Louis looks like she understands, eyes softening as she pushes Harry’s shirt up to rub circles into the exposed skin. She doesn’t bother saying anything in reply, placing gentle kisses all over Harry’s face, trailing down until she’s kissing along her jawline, sucking too lightly to leave any marks. She can’t help the sigh that escapes her lips, enjoying the feeling of Louis kissing at her skin as she explores with her hands. 

As if she can’t hold herself up any longer, Harry collapses on the bed next to Louis, who rolls with it. She keeps their legs entangled, running a toe along Louis’ calf, feeling the goosebumps rise on her skin and the shiver that wracks her body. She’s peeking at Harry from her half-closed eyes, peering out from under her dark eyelashes. 

Harry slides a hand along the waistband of Louis’ shorts, dipping her fingertips underneath. Louis follows the movement with her eyes, eyelashes fluttering softly as she watches. Her breath catches in her throat when Harry’s fingers dip lower, just barely sliding over her already wet panties. 

“Gonna do something about it, or are you gonna tease me all night?” Louis asks, but there’s no bite to it. She says it lazily, sleepily, as if she’s content to just let Harry tease and do as she pleases. Like she lacks the energy to do much else. 

It’s easy to slip a finger into her, press into the warm heat and watch her mouth form an O-shape. Harry crooks her finger, massaging the walls slowly, like she’s got all the time in the world. Louis just takes it, head tucked into the crook of Harry’s shoulder, mouthing at the skin there like she can’t do anything else. 

Harry lazily fingers her for a while, taking her time, pumping her fingers slowly. Louis lets out quiet moans and gasps, just barely bucking her hips into Harry’s hand. She’s quieter like this, when she’s tired and they’re in no rush.

Harry feels a hand at her own waistband, slipping easily underneath the fabric and pushing her panties to the side. She scoots upwards on the bed a little, making it easier for Louis to reach her. Louis is sluggish in her movements with this as well, circling her finger around Harry’s clit, no heat behind it. She’s just barely pressing down, driving Harry absolutely wild.

It’s one of her favorite things, watching Louis get off while she also gets off. There’s something about knowing she’s making Louis feel so good, while in turn Louis makes _her_ feel good. It always makes her feel like they’re so close, so in sync.

Louis comes first, hips stuttering into Harry’s hand and gasping as it rolls over her in waves. She bucks her hips until she’s oversensitive, all but squirming away from Harry’s touch. Harry pulls her fingers out, sliding them over Louis’ swollen clit before bringing them up to her own mouth to suck them clean. 

“I love you,” Louis breathes, barely above a whisper. Her fingers never slow, circling over Harry’s clit, just the right amount of pressure.

Harry comes barely a second after hearing her say that, the same three words tumbling from her lips. 

 

It’s only three weeks until bid day, and Harry is  _ stressed _ . No amount of orgasms from Louis can calm her down (and they’ve  _ tried _ ). 

Last year, her job had been to organize bid day, but this year is different. This year she’s in charge of all the new members when they show up - she’ll be the name they’re most familiar with. She can be the reason someone stays or drops. It’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, she thinks. Maybe the sorority made a mistake in making her president. Maybe they collectively, all hundred of them, fucked up.

“You’re being crazy, Haz,” Louis says to her, mouth stuffed full of a grilled cheese sandwich. It’s the only thing she can confidently make without setting the whole house on fire. 

They’re at Beta’s house for once, Louis having to have a few one-on-one meetings with some girls, and she’d told Harry she would make dinner. That of course, didn’t mean much of anything. She’d thrown down some bread and cheese onto the stove top and managed to only burn one of the sandwiches.

“I don’t know how you’re not stressed out,” Harry says, leaning her head down against the countertop. She resists the urge to bash her against it, maybe give herself a concussion so she can throw away all of her responsibilities. “You’re the president, too. You’re going through the exact same thing I am right now.”

Harry can picture the shrug Louis gives her in her mind, she doesn’t even need to look up to know that’s exactly what she does. She’s always so nonchalant, it’s as if nothing bothers her.

“Yeah, but like.” Louis speaks with her mouth full, struggling to get the words out around her half-chewed food. Harry finally looks up at her with a look of mild disgust. “I genuinely do not care as much as you do. You care more than I do if people like you.”

“I know you don’t care what people think of you,” she says. “You were an absolute shithead to me until we got together.” She pauses for a moment. “You’re still a fucking shithead to me.”

“Tell me your bid day theme and I’ll give you three orgasms right now,” Louis says instead of anything, like, actually helpful.

Harry snorts. “As if you could give me three orgasms right now.”

Just as Louis goes to reply, probably something dumb and _definitely_ something sarcastic, a few of the girls from the sorority come stumbling in. They crinkle their noses, no doubt smelling the burnt bread from the grilled cheeses. They greet Harry cheerfully, always so welcoming of her into their home. 

“How’s planning for rush week and bid day going for you, Harry?” one of the girls asks. Harry thinks her name is Shawn, but she’s not too sure. She can’t feel too bad, though, because it’s already hard enough to remember the names of all the girls in her own sorority, let alone the girls in Louis’. 

“As good as can be expected,” Harry answers, plastering on the fake smile she reserves for sorority talk. “Only a few bumps, but everything is mostly going as planned.”

“I’m so excited for your theme this year,” she says, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. Louis probably would think nothing of the statement, but Shawn continues, “It’s going to be so sick. Way better than any of last year’s themes, for sure.”

The group is gone as quickly as they enter, a flurry of giggles that leaves a not-so-giggling Louis.

“ _ Shawn _ knows what your theme is?” Louis cries, outraged. She slams her hands onto the counter in frustration, eyes widening manicially. “Who else knows what your theme is? Give it to me straight.”

Harry giggles, finding the way Louis’ forehead wrinkles and her exasperated tone adorable. “Basically everyone. It’s like this big game to see how well we can all keep it from you. So far so good. We’re all having a blast.”

Louis seems to ponder this for a few seconds, fight leaving her body as her shoulders slump. She appears to forgive Harry, at least.

“You can forget about those orgasms.”

 

Bid day, as always, comes way too quickly. There’s never enough time in the world to prepare for having forty girls running down the street to you. It’s quite intimidating, no matter how many years Harry has seen it happen (and the one time she was the one running down the street).

There’s thirty minutes until the street will be closed off for girls to run free, twenty minutes until the DJ gets here, and ten minutes for Harry to get her shit together before she has to start directing everyone to their places. She’s only a few seconds away from flopping onto the floor and calling the whole thing off. It’s  _ too much _ . 

“Harry?” comes a familiar voice from right beside her. Instantly, her body reacts, relaxing as the tension leaves her. “Gonna be okay, babe?”

“No.”

“Thanks for answering honestly,” Louis laughs. She throws an arm around Harry’s waist, pulling her into a one-armed hug. “Can I do anything for you?”

“No.”

“Can you say anything else?”

“No.”

Louis laughs louder this time, muffling the sound into Harry’s neck. Her breath blows across Harry’s skin, giving her goosebumps involuntarily. “Consistent, I see. Are you worried about anything in particular?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Harry turns in Louis’ arms, connecting their eyes. “Everything’s set to go properly.” She finally notices what Louis’ wearing and her breath catches in her throat.

Louis’ decked out in leather, despite the sweltering heat. She’s got leather pants and a jacket, bid day t-shirt on underneath. She must be dying, but Harry can’t see even a drop of sweat on her. She’s even wearing red lipstick, having gone all out for the theme.

“I am incredibly happy with this outfit,” Harry says breathlessly. “Like more than okay.”

“Hmm,” Louis hums. “I thought you’d enjoy it.” She gives Harry a onceover, raising an eyebrow. “I quite like your theme as well. Worth the wait, in my opinion.”

Harry had managed to keep the theme a secret until the end, not even spilling it when Louis had asked her when she’d asked while they were having sex earlier in the week. At first, Louis had been genuinely curious but she had turned it into a game by the end, doing her best to see if she could get Harry to crack. 

They had decided on a simple Hollywood theme, and everyone was dressed in gold and red skirts and wearing a mixture of round and heart shaped sunglasses. It wasn’t too snazzy, but that’s what the sorority had voted on so that’s what they went with. Harry had enjoyed painting their own Hollywood sign and designing the t-shirts, at least. 

“Don’t you have a job to do?” Harry asks, checking the time on her phone. “They’ll be here soon.”

“Ah, you’re right, I guess.” Louis pecks her cheek and the runs away, darting back in the direction of her own sorority house. Harry admires her as she goes, the leather pants clinging tightly to her ass and making it even more defined than normal. Harry hopes she keeps the pants forever. Maybe she’ll never wear any other kind of pants ever again.

Despite all of Harry’s worrying, the day goes seamlessly. 

They don’t run out of food, the DJ plays appropriate songs, and no one passes out from a heat stroke. Harry considers it a success when the last new member leaves, only mildly sunburnt and smiling wildly. She knows it’s a good group of girls, could tell from the way they interacted with one another and so easily fit in with the rest of the members. She’s got nothing to worry about, leaving the sorority in the hands of the younger girls.

While she’s in the process of cleaning up, Louis shows up by her side. She’s ditched the leather jacket but is still wearing the pants, shirt knotted to reveal a strip of her stomach. Harry can’t help the way her eyes linger everytime she glances over.

“Need me to do anything?” she asks, helping Harry clean up plastic cups from the tables. 

“No, I think this is the last of it,” Harry answers, tying off the trash bag and setting it with the rest. 

“So you gonna go lick me out in your room while I wear the leather jacket?” Louis says nonchalantly. Harry’s happy she’s no longer holding anything because she would have dropped it for sure. Louis doesn’t even give her a chance to respond, bounding up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Harry stands in the living room, mouth open in shock. Niall comes over and claps her on the shoulder, shaking her from the stupor she’d fallen in to.

“I told you that you were the most disgusting couple I’d ever met.”

**Author's Note:**

> [be my friend](http://microlouis.tumblr.com/)   
>  [request a prompt](http://justgirly1dthings.tumblr.com/)   
>  [fic post :)](http://justgirly1dthings.tumblr.com/post/183797468265/honey-honey-another-sorority-au-that-no-one)


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